


Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

by a_walking_shadow



Category: Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Audio 011: The Apocalypse Element, Audio 03.02: Companion Piece, F/F, Slow Burn, Torture, as this is not a fun fic, my characters are traumatised, send help, this is not a fun set of tags, which makes sense, with reference to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 19:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18580753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_walking_shadow/pseuds/a_walking_shadow
Summary: There is absolutely no reason why kidnapping a bunch of the Doctor's companions and sticking them in adjoining (and sometimes shared) prison cells should ever, ever work. They are, collectively, the most experienced group of people in the entire cosmos when it comes to escaping prisons of all kinds.Unfortunately, the Nine seems to be aware of that, and has put in place plenty of precautions.In corridor number four, the President of the High Council of the Time Lords- not long out of another long stint of captivity- finds herself slowly but surely falling for her cellmate.





	Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Stealing a title from Shakespeare, yet again. I'll come up with my own words at some point, I promise. 
> 
> I wasn't really sure how to tag this fic: I don't actually think it deserves the "graphic depictions of violence" warning. All the violence in it is sci-fi style energy beams which don't actually leave physical marks or anything like that... but better safe than sorry, I guess. So: this fic features characters being tortured, read at your own peril. 
> 
> This is set pre-Gallifrey audios. Leela is still travelling with the Doctor. Romana was taken from Gallifrey, not long after the events of "The Apocalypse Element" (in which she spends twenty years as a prisoner of the daleks.)

‘President of the High Council of the Time Lords? That sounds important.’

Romana slumps, slightly, and glances over at the figure she’s ended up sharing a cell with. Exactly _why_ she has a cellmate while the woman across the aisle does not remains a mystery, and frankly, she’s not sure she actually wants to know what kind of twisted logic is going on in The Nine’s head.

‘It is.’

‘And yet you are here, with us.’

Romana glares at her, even though she knows she shouldn’t. It’s clear that the others in the cells are going to be people she wants to keep on her side, but there’s something infuriating about the woman she’s been paired with. It’s like, out of all of time and space, The Nine managed to find a human being who was her exact opposite, and stuck her in this room solely to drive her insane.

‘Well. Clearly, the Chancellery Guard needs to up its game, if they manage to keep losing track of me.’

‘If your warriors are useless, then you should defend yourself!’

‘And what good did that do you?’ Romana counters, turning away from her, not expecting a response. Sure enough, the figure in the other corner of the cell offers nothing except for a sullen silence. She fights back a wave of vindictive pleasure at the thought of having scored something against the woman. They’re on the same side, here. It’s just a pity she’s, well, so obviously primitive. What the Doctor saw in her, she’s got no idea.

 Turning away, Romana marches towards the entrance. It’s a tiny cell, with a force field for a door. Regular patrols every two minutes and forty seconds. Even if she could escape, she’d be shot down within seconds by his torture drones. (She’s not panicking. She’s not.)

Force field. Gallifreyan technology. Six walls. A food machine. A bed. A human dressed in leathers and furs.   
_A food machine_. Gallifreyan technology.

‘What are you doing?’ a voice asks- not her cellmate. The woman imprisoned on the other side of the corridor. Sarah Jane Smith, she had said her name was. Twentieth century Earth. Not likely to have the skills to get out of here, companion of the Doctor or not.

‘The food machine is Gallifreyan technology, as are the force fields on the doors. If he’s using the system as it’s supposed to be used, then it’s one integrated system, so I should be able to hack into the controls from here-’

‘and disable the force field’, her cellmate finishes. ‘Maybe you have your uses after all, _Lord President._ ’

 

* * *

 

‘This will work’, she grits out, dragging herself back to the food machine. ‘Drones are on the same system too. I can disable them.’

‘You think he won’t have thought of that?’ Sarah Jane asks, from across the corridor. She hasn’t tried to get up yet. Neither has the savage warrior, oddly enough. Romana was sure she would’ve been on her feet within seconds.

‘Wait’, the savage says. ‘Save your strength.’

‘He’ll be expecting us to do that’, Romana replies. _And I need to get out of here now, I can’t spend any longer locked up, I can’t I can’t I can’t_ -

 

* * *

 

‘I told you to wait’, the savage says through clenched teeth. Romana’s hands are shaking. She considers them for a moment, then decides that the damage probably won’t be permanent, and lets them rest on her lap to wait out the tremors.

‘We were close’, she replies. ‘There’s some kind of barrier at the end of the corridor, but if we can get past that-’

‘and how, exactly, are we supposed to do that?’ Sarah Jane asks, tiredly. She’s still slumped on the floor, exactly where the drones dumped her when they dragged her back. ‘He’s taken your food machine away, now, and I don’t think I could ever work it quickly enough. We’re stuck.’

‘There’s a way out’, Romana replies. ‘There’s got to be.’

No food arrives. No water, either, which is more of a pressing concern. Especially since she’s locked up with a human.

 

* * *

 

It turns out that there is a weak point in the wall, where the force field is generated. It’s possible to switch it off manually, if you have the combined strength of a time lord and a human warrior with which to tear down the panelling. They can’t help Sarah Jane, unfortunately, but if they can get out and stop The Nine, then she’ll be free too.

The savage throws her knife at one of the drones, knocking it out of the air. Romana stares in shock- she hadn’t even noticed it arriving.

 ‘I am not as useless as you thought I was, am I?’ The woman asks. Romana nods, and scurries for the corner.

They encounter an unexpected patrol, that time. One of the random movements of people from one corridor to another. (They aren’t random. She picks up the pattern easily enough- they all do- and she finds herself wishing she’d stayed with the Doctor just a little longer, if only to get to walk down the corridor.)

(The daleks had a corridor, too, the same number of steps each time but their movements were irregular, she never knew they were coming, she spent so long alone in the dark, counting the time between her heartbeats, but she’d lose track eventually, she always did, and she never knew how long it was and that was so much worse than the darkness and the silence)

(It’s Adric, being dragged into their corridor for a few fleeting moments. She knows he died. She researched it, when she got back from E-Space. He died, but his face brightens when he sees her and then the drone shoots him in the back first, and then the woman she escaped with, and then, finally, once her allies are all gone, they shoot her too.)

 

* * *

 

‘Where were you taken from? Do you know me yet?’ Adric asks, when they’re all lined up in corridor number four. (There are people missing, and Sarah Jane is trying so hard not to panic about “Harry” who was at her side when she was taken here, and nothing any of them say is really convincing her that he’s probably better off wherever he is. It’s not really convincing them, either.)

‘Yes, Adric, I do’, she replies, even though every breath sends pain arching through her lungs. (this torture is not the same as a dalek beam set to stun, except at a high enough level it’s hard to tell the difference.) ‘Have you seen anything that could help us get out, do you think?’

He rambles, as he is wont to do sometimes, and she finds herself wishing she had K-9 with her.

‘If K-9 was here, he could deal with the door, I am sure of it!’ The savage glares at the force field, and Romana forces herself not to react to the realisation that her polar opposite was apparently thinking the exact same thing.

 

* * *

 

‘Well, well, well. My Lady President. Quick trip for you, and I do hope you don’t run off again- **oh no I really hope she does, that means we can KILL HER** \- shut up, Six, that means the collection won’t be complete! Sorry about him, he’s such a party pooper- _Oh, that’s not a very good word, is it? Hmm, I really do need to work on my vocabulary-_ OUR vocabulary, thank you very much-’

‘Me?’ Romana asks, fighting to keep her voice steady. ‘But I haven’t travelled with any of the Doctor’s other incarnations!’

‘Not yet you haven’t! But what is it this irritating Song woman keeps saying to me – _screaming_ … fair bit of screaming, yes, but that’s not what I’m thinking of, _or the flirtatious comments_ – no, spoilers, that was it! Spoilers- **she isn’t moving yet,** **can I kill her, please can I kill her, pretty please** \- no, Six, we haven’t even opened the force field yet, of course she isn’t moving, don’t be absurd-’

Jaw clenched, she stalks forwards, marching out of the door with as much dignity as she can muster. The drone shoves her in the back to force her forwards, and it takes far too much effort not to react to that.

Perhaps, if she times it right, when they reach the corner-

The world goes dark, mercifully quickly.

 

* * *

 

‘Where were you taken from?’ her cellmate asks. She’s back in corridor four. It’s slightly unclear if she actually made it to her destination, and was unconscious the whole time, or if he just brought her straight back.

‘Gallifrey’, she replies, trying to sit up. She can’t. Her limbs feel like they’re on fire and there’s a white-hot ball of pain between her shoulder blades, where the drones zapped her. Steeling herself, she tries again.

Her cellmate catches her shoulders, and gently but firmly presses her back onto the bed. The pressure leaves her seeing stars, but the warmth of the human woman’s hands provides some relief.

‘You need to rest’, she says- orders, really.

‘What I need to do is get out of here’, Romana hisses in return, but her body betrays her and she sinks deeper into the blankets.

 

* * *

 

‘Good morning all! Hello, hello, hello, it’s me, lovely to see you all again- _well, maybe not you, boy, you’re annoying me_ \- ~~I’m sorry for this, I’m so sorry~~ _-_ oh, shut up, Eight! None of the rest of us are sorry- **yes I am I’m sorry I haven’t KILLED you yet** \- Six, no.’

‘Who is it this time, then?’, Sarah Jane asks, dragging herself upright. The drone ignores her, and turns towards Romana’s cell.

‘No’, the human woman growls. ‘She needs rest. Do not do this.’

‘And why should I listen to you, hmm? You’re my prisoners, I can do whatever I like to you!’

‘Because if you don’t stop then you’re going to kill her’, says a voice in the background which none of them recognise. It’s female, and exhausted. There is the sound of a machine activating, and the woman crying out in pain.

‘Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Romanadvoratrelundar- goodness, that is an absurdly long name, isn’t it? How about a little bit of exercise? Just a walk around the block- _it’ll be a run, she’ll try and escape again,_ _she always does_ \- oh, she might learn eventually, you never know!’

Romana grits her teeth, and drags herself upright. This time, surely. There’s got to be a way out. Her human- well, guard, almost- looks like she wants to stop her from moving, but in the end decides not to intervene.

Standing is hard. Stumbling the few steps across the room to the door without supporting herself on a wall is harder. The world lurches violently with every movement.  

She’s had worse.

She doesn’t even get to try and run, this time. She glances in the wrong direction and then the world is on fire and she’s vaguely aware of pain spiking up her forearms as she tries to break her fall.

(that’s good. That pain is good. That pain is real and normal and something to hold onto, nothing like the rest of it.)

 

* * *

 

‘You really don’t know why you’re being taken to corridor eight?’ The man is a new arrival- or at least, a newer one, she hasn’t exactly been keeping track of things very well for the last little while. She thinks she might remember The Nine complaining about being “unsure if these guys actually count” and “what is it about the Doctor and his compulsive need to befriend random humans” and “how exactly I managed to get this guy and not his theatre buddy is completely beyond me”.

‘I assure you’, she tells him, ‘until you told me, I had no idea what corridor I was even going to.’

Eight. That’s four corridors down. That’s a reasonable distance, surely, maybe long enough to actually make a run for it-

‘where were you, before you were brought here?’ her cellmate asks.

She blinks. ‘I already told you that. On Gallifrey.’

‘And where were you before that?’

‘Why does that matter?’

No one responds. No one even looks her in the eye.

Adric’s voice cuts across the silence. ‘Because Liv told Charley who told Peri who told me that the number on your arm is from a dalek prison camp.’

‘And what does that have to do with anything? I’m sure that everyone here has met the daleks. And we’ve certainly all been imprisoned before.’

No one speaks. Romana gets the distinct impression that if Sarah Jane were here, she’d point out that none of them had been branded with numbers in any of their encounters, but the journalist is in corridor three right now and no one else apparently has the heart to say it.

‘How long were you a prisoner for?’ Adric asks.

Longer than you lived for, she thinks but does not say.

 

* * *

 

 ‘Guess who!’

‘Oh, not again’, Sarah Jane growls. ‘You’re an utter monster, you know that?’ Then she realises that the drone is heading for Romana’s cell, and scrambles up, like she wants to draw its attention.

Romana is strangely touched. She’s hardly been sociable towards any of these people, and yet they seem willing to throw down their own lives for her.

It’s kind of terrifying.

‘No’, the leather-wearing human says. ‘She’s not going anywhere.’

The force field comes down. Romana tries to sit up, but the world is spinning far too much. Her cellmate drops down by her side, gently wrapping the blanket back around her shoulders and guiding her back down.

‘I’m sorry, what- do you really think saying no to me is a good idea? Do you? **Oh please let me kill them please please please they’re disobeying us** \- _you know, old chap, I think I might actually agree with Six, for once_ \- ~~no you don’t have to do this, we can be a good man~~ \- oh, where’s the fun in that, Eight? Instead, why don’t I…’

The drone shoots at Romana. Her cellmate shoves her down, throwing herself forwards and taking the shot in her ribs instead.

_no no no by the Other this can’t be happening no, please_ \- How many times has she been shot, now? Surely close to lethal. _Oh for Rassilon’s sake, what have I done-_ she’s a time lord, it’s calibrated for her, not for a human, and her cellmate must already be weak, she hasn’t been sleeping properly, they’re not getting anywhere near enough food or water-

The woman lets out a pained gasp, and collapses. Automatically, Romana reaches out to steady her, although her arms are shaking so much that she’s barely any help, and they end up practically slumped against each other.

‘What did you do that for?’ she gasps, once she trusts her vocal cords to do something other than cry out in agony.

Her cellmate huffs out a laugh, albeit one undercut by pain. ‘You are not going to die here. I am not going to let you.’

‘At the cost of your own life?! You don’t even know me!’

‘I know enough. I know that even if you are not a warrior you will fight for what you believe in. I know you will not give up. I know that you are a leader and I know that you will be a good one, if you are allowed to go home, and you will change your people for the better.’

‘That’s not-’

‘That is not true, you say? Then you are foolish. Unless you think it is not important, but I think it is the most important thing there is.’

‘I don’t even know your name’, she says, in an impossibly small voice.

‘I am not surprised. You cared far more about escaping than paying attention to me.’ Romana glances down, embarrassed. ‘I am Leela’, the woman says. ‘Warrior of the Sevateem.’

‘Nice to meet you, Leela’, she replies. ‘I’m Romana.’

They remain collapsed against each other, exhausted, two sets of eyes tracking the drones every time they pass. Romana’s pretty sure that her elbow is digging into Leela’s ribs, but the other woman is either polite enough or exhausted enough not to comment about it. Romana, for her part, finds herself surprisingly calm, with the other woman curled against her.

(maybe it’s just because it’s different. She certainly never had company as a prisoner of the daleks.)

 

* * *

 

‘Go to sleep, Leela.’

‘You need it more.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’re human, you need far more than I do!’

‘Look, can you two please stop bickering?’ a voice asks, from further down the corridor. (Her name is Tegan. She’s very irate that this corridor is not Heathrow.) ‘Some of us are actually trying to sleep, rather than arguing about it!’

They fall silent for all of eight seconds.

‘You take the bed’, Leela orders. ‘I will keep watch and wake you in a few hours.’

‘Oh, no you won’t’, Romana replies, dragging herself upright. ‘You get the bed. I’ll take first watch.’

‘You will do no such thing, Romana-’

‘oh, for goodness sake’, Tegan sighs. ‘Both of you get into the bed, we won’t judge. And if you have to keep bickering, can you at least do it quietly?’

‘You’re hardly in a position to complain about people arguing’, grumbles Adric, but his comment is almost lost amongst the generally supportive muttering from most of the other cells. Romana can feel her cheeks burning, but after a moment she obediently slides into the spot next to Leela.

‘Good’, Leela murmurs. ‘Now you will sleep. I will wake you, I promise.’

The cells are almost silent, now, except for the repetitive hum of the drones circling past their row of cells. And the sound of humans breathing, and someone further up the corridor getting into a vicious fight with their pillow and falling out of bed. And Leela’s heartbeat, pounding out a war cry next to her.

‘I don’t think I can’, she breathes. ‘Sleep, that is.’

Leela shifts, slightly. ‘Do not worry. I am right here.’

For some reason, that almost seems to help.

 

* * *

 

Romana wakes up, after several hours. Leela didn’t do what she promised, and instead looks as if she fell asleep on guard duty.

She frowns. Her friends’ single heart is pounding far too fast, her breathing shallow. To Romana, she feels warm, but nowhere near warm enough for a human.

Well. She might be able to do something about that.

Somehow, though, she sleeps again. She is woken up by the sound of patrols coming and going, of someone called Margaret being delivered into the end cell. With Leela by her side, she is not woken by her own nightmares for the first time since she left Etra Prime.

‘You’re too hot’, Leela tells her.

Romana just shrugs. ‘You need the heat.’

‘You are controlling this?’ she asks, surprised. Then she starts smiling. ‘Sometimes I will forget that you are an alien. Then you will do something like this.’

‘How do you get by without being able to control your body temperature, exactly?’ Romana asks. ‘It must be an enormous waste of energy.’

‘We wear clothes’, Leela replies, with a grin. ‘Or not, when it gets too hot. Would you like a demonstration?’

She’s not entirely sure what is louder: her own garbled response, Leela’s cheerful cackling, or Adric’s horrified splutter from the next cell over.

 

* * *

 

Leela’s entire body is trembling, when Romana is returned from a flying visit to corridor five. (Things were eventful, there. Nyssa was curled up in Tegan’s cell, with the clear signs of having been shot by one of the drones. The cell she had formerly been in now features a gaping hole in the wall, and the food machine in her new cell is conspicuously absent. Luckily, no one there seemed to be in immediate danger, although Romana would’ve liked to stay for a little longer to confirm that, and maybe hear more about what Nyssa had attempted to do.)

‘Are you all right?’ she asks, which is clearly a stupid question but she’s not entirely sure what else to do.

‘No’, her friend grits out. ‘But I do not know why. I was not shot again.’

‘It might be a delayed response’, she replies, carefully balancing herself on the edge of the bed and wrapping the blanket around Leela’s shoulders. ‘Your brain isn’t sure how to process a situation, so it doesn’t, at least for a while.’

Leela doesn’t respond, just clenches her jaw tightly enough that Romana can hear her teeth grinding. She’s struck by the sudden realisation that she has absolutely no idea what to say. If the situation was reversed, Leela would know. She always seems to.

 ‘Have I told you very much about my home planet?’ she hazards. Leela shakes her head, slightly, so Romana continues, ‘it’s called Gallifrey, located in the constellation of Kasterborous, coordinates 10-0-11-00 by 0-2 from galactic zero centre-’

Leela won’t know what that means, she realises, and she probably won’t care too much about the astronomical data either. Or its technological advances. Or the political minefield which is negotiating with other temporal powers. Or, well, most of what she knows about her home planet, really.

‘We have some very interesting wildlife’, she offers, instead. ‘I once did one of my academy reports on the flutterwing. It’s a small insect-’

This probably isn’t too interesting to her either, she thinks, but she hasn’t told me to shut up yet and I can’t think of anything better.

What does it say about Gallifrey, that her skills seem to start and end with listing facts about her own people? Even after travelling for so long with the Doctor, she’s nowhere near as good at telling stories as someone like Leela.

 

* * *

 

‘Who is she?’ Romana asks, once the latest drone has dithered at their door for a while before finding someone else to terrorise, taking The Nine’s conversation with the mysterious woman along with it. ‘I feel like I’m supposed to know her voice.’

Leela shrugs slightly, careful not to dislodge Romana’s head from her shoulder. ‘I do not know. She seems to be on our side, though.’

‘And paying the price for it’, she mutters. ‘I wonder if there’s any way to help her.’

Leela huffs out a laugh. ‘You think we should help her, when we are here, barely able to even stand up?’

‘I just want to be able to do something useful, that’s all. We’ve been here for so long, now.’

‘I know something useful that you could do.’

‘Oh?’

‘Pass me the corner of that blanket.’

She sighs. ‘As you wish.’

Leela cackles. ‘Look at you! President of the Time Lords, bowing to the wishes of a pathetic little human!’

‘Oh, Leela, you are the complete and utter opposite of pathetic.’

 

* * *

 

‘You know, I really don’t think this is going to work’, Sarah Jane says. ‘Twenty questions sounded like a good way to pass the time in theory, but it doesn’t quite work when we aren’t all from the same species, let alone time zone or planet.’

‘Yes, I agree’, mutters Leela. ‘It is not fair that Romana gets to choose from objects I do not even know the existence of.’

‘What, just because I studied science-’

Leela chucks a pillow at her, but it’s relatively half-hearted, and Romana catches it easily. ‘Why thank you. This corner was getting a bit uncomfortable.’

‘Well, I hope that improves it, because I am not letting you in the bed tonight.’

‘Hmph. See if I care. You have cold feet. The floor will probably be better.’

‘Cold feet? You’re entire body is freezing, Romana!’

‘It’s hardly my fault your species has an inefficiently high body temperature!’

‘Oh, ladies, get a room’, The Nine complains, via the passing drone. ‘Oh wait, no. You already have one. Never mind. Carry on.’

 

* * *

 

‘I’m sorry, Adric, but truth or dare is not a good idea in this instance’, Romana says, as patiently as she can manage. ‘Even if your idea of getting all the corridors involved would somehow work, and not be hugely inefficient, we’re all from different time zones. Who knows what would happen if we ended up talking about the personal futures of other people here.’

‘You could just pick dare’, he offers in return.

‘And what kind of dare is possible here, exactly?’

‘Just kiss the girl and get on with it!’ Tegan’s shout devolves into a yelp of pain- presumably, she was moving too slowly for the drone’s liking. Or too quickly. Or made a rude gesture at it. Or something.

Romana, for her part, ducks her head and forces herself to pretend that she didn’t hear the comment.

(they’ll find a way out, surely, or the Doctor will come, he must- and then she’ll never see Leela again, no reason to make this harder than it already will be-)

(at some point, immediate escape stopped being the most desirable outcome. She wants out, that’s for sure, but- maybe one more day?)

 

* * *

 

There is a lot of yelling, and shouting, and running feet.

And then nothing.

‘Do you think they got out?’ Romana asks. She’s standing next to the door, hand gripping Leela’s tightly, just like she has been ever since the commotion first started. If there’s a way out, then she wants to be the first one to take it and she wants Leela to be by her side when she does.

‘Do you think they’re still alive?’ Leela asks in return. Romana finds herself flinching. ‘I don’t think he’s actually going to kill us’, she replies, as confidently as she can manage.

Hopefully they’re okay. Hopefully Adric hasn’t done anything stupid, he already dies far too young. Tegan might be annoying sometimes but hopefully she hasn’t annoyed him too much. Hopefully Sarah Jane’s new friend in corridor three, Jo Grant, hasn’t used her escapology skills and gotten herself into even more trouble. And the girl in corridor seven who’s already blown up several cells hasn’t accidentally blown herself up as well.   
With any luck, they’re all alive and okay and sooner or later rescue will come or the Nine will get bored of his project and let them all go home. (Ha! One can dream.)

There are footsteps, coming down the corridor.

_Footsteps._

That’s- what does that even mean? Company. Not the daleks, at least, not in person, maybe a new friend, maybe just a new ally to watch die-

‘Hello’, the woman says. ‘My friend Liv is working with the door controls, she should have the whole system sorted within a minute or two. And River says she has a way to get everyone home, as well.’

Sure enough, there’s a distant shout of triumph, and all the force fields drop at once. For a long moment, no one moves. Then Leela tugs her forward, and they step out the door together.

 

* * *

 

The woman standing at the end of the corridor looks utterly exhausted, the days or weeks of torture still showing in her eyes even if she manages to hide it from her voice and stance. Romana finds herself straightening, automatically, even though she knows no one here would judge her for it.

She’ll be home soon. She’ll have to be in control, then. (She can’t let Leela be the brave one, anymore, because Leela won’t be there.)

(they are still holding hands. Romana realises she does not want to let go, and Leela seems willing to stay as they are, at least for now.)

When the woman speaks, Romana realises that this is the woman the Nine had been keeping prisoner, the one who occasionally interrupted his- are they monologues if there’s more than one person speaking? She introduces herself as River Song, and starts sending companions back to where they’re supposed to be, one or two at a time.

‘Lady President,’ River Song smirks. ‘And a friend, I see!’

‘You’re a Time Lord?’ she asks, fighting to keep the surprise from showing in her voice. River shrugs. ‘Kind of. It’s a bit complicated. Most things with me are.’

River glances from Romana, to Leela, to their joined hands, then back again, grins slightly, and ducks around them to offer a lift to Tegan first. (It doesn’t sound like she’s heading for Heathrow.)

‘So,’ Leela says, and then stops.

‘This is it, I suppose’, Romana replies, fighting to keep her voice steady.

‘Well, you do have all kinds of important things to do, back on your big red planet with two suns and a black hole and a lot of stupid sounding objects.’

‘I… yes, I suppose I do.’ Oh, she thinks. I didn’t realise she was even listening, then.

‘And I need to go and make sure the Doctor does not die doing something stupid.’

‘Well, that’s definitely an important job.’

They fall silent, again. Romana notices that there is a remarkably large amount of space around them, and several people pointedly looking in any direction other than her and Leela. She realises she’s probably supposed to be embarrassed, but it’s a bit difficult to actually care. 

‘I’m happy I met you’, she says, and then adds, all in a rush, ‘the circumstances weren’t exactly ideal, of course, but if I had to be kidnapped by an insane psychopath then I’m happy you were here with me.’

‘I am glad I met you as well,’ Leela replies. ‘Although I hope I can see you again, when you are not being overly foolish and trying to get yourself killed.’

‘Yes. Well.’ That’s very unlikely, she thinks, and Leela is obviously thinking the same.

‘We-ell, I _really_ shouldn’t give away information about people’s futures, and I usually try not to…’ They both jump, slightly, as River Song practically materialises over Leela’s shoulder. ‘But in your case, does it help to know that you do see each other again, and end up being quite close, by all accounts?’

‘How?’ Romana demands, hearts hammering in her chest. ‘We live such different lives, I can’t even imagine a way we could cross paths. Not now that I’ve stopped travelling with the Doctor.’

She shrugs. ‘Spoilers.’

‘You are infuriating, you know that?’

‘Well, I do my best.’

Leela grins. ‘This is not goodbye, then? We will meet again?’

Romana stares at her, for a moment. The other woman is absolutely exhausted, with lank hair and a layer of grime that’s even more obvious in the open area than it was in the cell, but her smile is wide and her eyes full of life in a way Romana had begun to think she’d never see again.

‘I guess I’ve got something to look forward to’, she offers.

Leela steps forward, briefly pressing her lips to Romana’s, then pulling her in for a hug. ‘I will see you soon’, she promises. ‘No matter what happens, I will make sure of it.’

‘Ladies?’ River interrupts. ‘I hate to break this up, but we really do need to get going.’

On the spur of the moment, Romana pulls Leela in for another kiss. Then, before she can change her mind, she forces herself to step back and walks over to join River.

‘I don’t get to remember this, do I?’ she asks, quietly. Hopefully, quietly enough that Leela won’t hear. 

‘You’re not supposed to. I’m sorry.’ River pauses, and then steps aside, allowing her access to the TARDIS.

She hesitates for a moment, then squares her shoulders, and steps forwards.

‘That’s fine. This way, I get to fall in love with her all over again.’


End file.
